Once in a while in a junkie's life one tries ones damndest to get away from it all. To shed the losers that keep you down. This is to be done while doing everything in one's power to keep a job, pacify the nag of a wife, and continue giving the kids a sense of normalcy.

It's not that difficult, if only that useless sack of a friend would keep from showing up and bringing free drugs to your door.

It's 1937 OH, supper is cooking over the stove, a simple sauce of tomato concasse and salt pork.


Man can I crash for a while? The spiders are there again.

Kevin never did understood social norms or good behavior, the next high was all that mattered and who could blame him? A dead end life in a dead end town was the best that tomorrow would bring.

It's not a good idea, and man you are sweating while it's 60, you loaded again?

I got enough for both of us, where's the F? (referring to tin foil) He says as he pushes himself in.

Man, Jane's here, and you know how it was the last time...

I'll be in the basement, I need a pen.

Yeah I'll be there.

So again, like a thousand nights before, chasing the dragon, forgetting about dinner, and disappearing for a few days until the inevitable crash.

There's no shedding these losers. I cocked the hammer on the commander, he was heating up the rocks and it was just about to sublimate when. . .


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